


You Can't Be My Soulmate!?

by ForbiddenFeathers



Series: Soulmates AU [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Boys In Love, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, POV First Person, Romantic Soulmates, SO MUCH FLUFF, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:59:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7061599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenFeathers/pseuds/ForbiddenFeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine a world where everyone gets a name appearing on their wrists when they turn 13. The name of their soulmate, the one person in the world that fits perfectly with you. Yup, it’s kind of a big deal here and no matter what you do it won’t scrub off, believe me I’ve tried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Be My Soulmate!?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrsdortmund](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsdortmund/gifts).



> This story have been running around my head all week but I didn't have time to type it out. BUT IT'S HERE!!! And I finished English classes with an A+ so I am on summer holidays now!!! Which means I will write more again!!! :D Leave a comment if you like this :D
> 
> Also brief background to this story:  
> Álvaro is not a footballer. Isco is. So is the rest of the Real Madrid team. All Juve players are not.

Imagine a world where everyone gets a name appearing on their wrists when they turn 13. The name of their soulmate, the one person in the world that fits perfectly with you. Yup, it’s kind of a big deal here and no matter what you do it won’t scrub off, believe me I’ve tried. 

My name is Álvaro Morata, I am 23 years old and the last one of my friends who has yet to meet their soulmate. I mean I haven’t exactly been looking for them, whoever they are. 

Life had been pretty standard or normal for me, until yesterday. 

I am getting ahead of myself, let’s start the story somewhere else. On my thirteenth birthday to be exact.

It all started on the morning of my birthday, when I woke up with sharp pains ripping my wrist in half as a cursive Francisco appeared in a fancy handwriting, just above the beginning of my hand. I had been sitting in my bed and staring at my wrist when my family finally arrived to wake me up.

“Did you get your name? Who is she?” My mother had asked with the best intentions but I busted into tears and hid my wrist in embarrassment until my sister Marta had wrestled my wrist out from where I hid it under the pillow and showed the name to everyone. 

“Francisco… It’s a boy? Oh Alfonso, what are people gonna say?” My mother cried out before leaving the room with my father in a tow. 

“It’s not his choice Susana. Your soulmate is given to you, not picked by you, yourself. Be nice to him, he is our son after all.” My father said to calm my fuming mother. Wait why would she think it was my fault? 

After that day, I always covered up my wrist, telling people that the name on my wrist said Franciscka instead and never showing anyone any interest when it came to relationships with the other none-bonded kids in my school.

When I finished I moved away to pursue a career in art at the University of Torino, where I met a guy called Paulo who was from Argentina and also had a boy’s name written on his wrist. We became friends right away and he taught me not to only to accept that my soulmate was a guy, but to embrace it. 

Living away from my parents and Madrid did a lot of good to me. My confidence and my self-esteem skyrocketed in the presents of the friends I made in Torino. But one thing I missed more than anything back home was my favourite football club, Real Madrid. I had always felt a pull towards Real, much to my Atletico loving father’s dismay, but I never understood why. Until yesterday.

While visiting my sister in Madrid for the weekend, her soulmate Carlos took both of us to see a match against Sevilla. 

From the moment I stepped into their apartment the night before, I felt an uneasy wave of nausea wash over me before I realised what was wrong. 

When you are a day away from meeting your soulmate, a countdown clock will appear next to your soulmate mark, counting down the seconds until your soul meets its other half again for the first time in your current body.

The legend they taught us in school about soulmates said that soulmates would have known each other for centuries and therefore be able to recognise each other from a mile away. If one dies, the other will follow soon after, unless they didn’t get to meet before one of them died. But If you were bonded and your soulmate died, you’d die a couple of days after because of your soul being weak to the absents of its other half.

Anyways back to my story:

On my wrist, a series of numbers were counting down to the exact moment of kick-off. At least my soulmate wouldn’t be an Atletico fan, I thought as I tried to calm myself from the mini freak-out the countdown had caused. Holy shit, I will meet my soulmate tomorrow, it dawned on me as I pulled my shirt off and pick up my phone from the nightstand next to the bed in my sister’s guest room. 

“Paulo.” Paulo answered at the first ring.

“It has started to count down.” I said without saying hello.

“Holy shit.” He replied.

“Yeah.” 

“Are you okay?” Paulo sounded genuinely concerned for me.

“I don’t know. It’s gonna reach zero at kick off…” I was really spooked at that. What if the guy was a passionate Sevilla fan and hated Madrid? What if he didn’t want to let me watch the matches? So many what if’s ran through my head as Paulo remained silent.

“Stop it. I can hear you thinking. He is gonna be lovely and amazing because he is your other half, and he is gonna love every part of you!” Paulo shouted into the phone as I let a lonely tear run down my cheek.

“Thank you, Joya. I don’t know what I’d do without you…” I thanked him before hanging up and going to sleep. Tomorrow would be a big day for me.

The next morning, I got up and put on my favourite pair of black skinny jeans with my Casillas jersey, and did my hair before joining Marta and Carlos for breakfast, although I was so nervous that I could barely eat anything. 

I didn’t tell them why I was so anxious, because they would just worry about me, and I didn’t need that now. Marta had always had my back after our mother had freaked out over my soulmate name when I was 13. She always supported me and she was the reason why I was three months away from getting a bachelor in Arts and Animation Technology from UT. 

When we arrived at the Bernabeu, my clock had about an hour left on it and it made me wonder. What football fan would arrive at an important match just as it kicked off? Unless you were a player and there was absolutely no way that my soulmate could be a footballer. Was there?

We got seated so close to pitch since the tickets were a present from Carlos’ boss, who had heard of my obsession with Real, and being a big fan himself, thought it would be a good experience for his best employee and his family. 

The players ran into the tunnel after warm ups and I noticed the tense backs of Iker Casillas and Sergio Ramos as they talked hushed together, arms around a very distressed looking Isco. They came back as the match was starting and Isco walked out as a part of the starting eleven.

While Hala Madrid was playing, as if he felt my eyes on him, he looked up just enough to meet my eyes and holy crap.

Everything felt too hot all of the sudden, white light was surrounding him as we looked at each other from a distance. I heard my sister talk to me, but her words didn’t register as I passed out. Across the field, Isco did the same.

When I woke up, I was sitting in a dressing room, pain running through my wrist. 

“What happened?” I asked no one in particular as I looked around and saw the concerned faces of several of my childhood idols. 

“Well Álvaro, it seems that you found your soulmate in our baby Isco.” Iker smiled at me and handed me a bottle. Being this close to San Iker was weird, especially since now I could see three small dots in a vertical line on his wrist. His soulmark. Sergio had the exact same ones I realised.

“Wait what?” my eyes widen as his words registered in my brain. Isco, the golden boy, with the raven black hair and golden brown eyes was mine?

“That’s right kiddo. He’s in the medical room getting checked up since he hit his head a bit when he passed out. Your soulmark is behind your ears which caused you both to pass out. Luckily no one noticed you, except for me, so your secret is safe for now.” Iker said as I sat up on the bench that I had been placed on. He sat down next to me. 

Not even two seconds after I finished drinking the water Iker had gotten for me, Isco bolted into the room. 

“IS HE OKAY??” He yelled as he pushed his way through the concerned players that had gathered in the other end of the room. 

“Oye, Isco. He’s fine. His sister caught him before he could hit his head or damage himself in any ways.” Iker calmed the panicked Isco as he reached the bench. When our eyes met, it felt like no one was in the room. Just us. 

“Hi, I’m Isco or well Francisco, but please call me Isco.” Isco put out his hand and smiled at me.

“I know. Madridista for life and all… I’m Álvaro. Just Álvaro.” I giggled as I shook his hand. He smirked and pulled at my hand so I ended up flushed against him. 

“Ups?” Isco giggled and my entire world felt whole.

“ISCO, THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE IN THE ROOM!! Maybe wait to PDA until you get home?” Sergio teased, earning himself a smack to the head by Iker and Cris at the same time.

“The kid just found his soulmate, let him be Sese!!” Cris scolded before smiling affectionately at the boy who had become a sort of baby brother to him during his short time in Madrid.

Which brings me up to today. It’s 9 am and the sun is shining through the window of Isco’s centrally placed apartment. We sat up all night and talked before I fell asleep in his arms.

He turned next to me and my heart jumped in my chest. How could I have been so lucky? There is no way it could be real, but it was. My sister was thrilled because she knew I was gonna be happy with Isco. How could I not, the guy is freaking cute and hot at the same time!!

And this is where my story ends. I am the soulmate of Isco Alarcon, and I couldn’t be happier. So why did I send you my/our story? Well I’m not sure only know this:

Love can find a way through anything. Even when your parents blame you for getting a male soulmate and your classmates find you weird because of that. Because when you meet your soulmate? None of that stuff matters anymore. Only he does. And they will take away all the pain and sorrow you had ever felt only to replace it with light and love and joy.

So please, Mr. Magazine Editor, please print this story in your magazine for the world to know, but you got to promise me not to change a word. 

 

All the best,

Álvaro Morata

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS PURE FICTION!!! I felt like I needed to put it out there so no one would think otherwise :D   
> Btw do you guys want me to do a sequel from Isco's POV? :D


End file.
